Cliff Fittir: Mystery of Aireglyphian Attire
by Shiawase Vampire
Summary: SO3.  To quell the many questions about the new people on board the Diplo, Cliff arranges for an allcrew meeting to discuss that very subject.  Warnings for up to the beginning of disk 2 events.


**Detective Cliff Fittir and the Mystery of Aireglyphian Attire**

The blond Klausian cleared his throat impatiently; his hands staunchly perched on his hips. The crew of the Diplo had a rare moment of peace—and he was tired of getting questions about what the world was like—so he organized a little meeting so he could get a moment to himself for once.

"Quiet down, already," he said gruffly. "Let's get started."

The crew sat down, its members conveniently comprised of those belonging to Quark and Quark alone, and waited for Cliff to start. With a flick of the lights, he grabbed a small remote and clicked on the first image.

"Elicoor II. According to the Federation, it is in approximately the Earth's 18th century. That means probably nothing to any of you, but it does give a point of reference.

"Now, at the time of our, er, crash, the continent seemed to be involved in an all-out war—

"Cliff, only two of the four countries were fighting," interrupted Mirage, the woman giving him a sly look.

"Yeah, that's what I meant. Ahem, anyway, the countries of Aireglyph and Aquaria: entering either of these countries, you would think the inhabitants were from Earth just by looks alone.

"However! You would be _mostly_ correct."

He started flipping through images of people and places. "There are other species on this planet, like in the Sanmite Republic, for example," he clicked on a picture of Roger. "Don't be misled by this little one's cute looks. He's really an intelligent smartass brat. Note the ears and tail. There are also many others, but we haven't had many dealings with them. And I don't feel like talking about them now.

"Get to the point!" Cliff threw the impatient crewmember a look.

"Now," he said, an image appearing of an Aquarian and Aireglyphian. "These are your typical Elicoorian humanoids. Note the markings on the female's limbs. Inscribed on her skin are markings they call 'runeology'. On the male, well, nothing's special about him. Back to the female—"

"Come on, Cliff! Get to the good stuff!" called a random crewmember.

His lips curled into a smirk. "All right. I guess I'll skip to the end. Mirage, can you make sure…?"

She nodded and stood, exiting the room. He grinned after her, chuckling to himself. The members of Quark all looked at each other with confused looks, though they all knew they were in for one hell of a show now that Mirage was out of the room. Maria too was gone manning the ship since she's already spent time on the planet in question.

"We can speak freely now. Many of you have asked me about our new compatriot, if we can call him that. Albel Nox," he began, a three-dimensional model appearing on the screen, the model devoid of expression on its face. "Is not your normal Elicoorian, as you all have seen."

A murmur of assent spread through them. The questions he's had… They tired and bored him to tears, though it gave him a good laugh each time.

"The big question on your minds is: Is Albel Nox a male or female? Okay, he's a male, but on the scale of one to ten, ten being very masculine and one being very female, he's a three.

"Very little about him suggests malehood. From the feminine facial features to his shapely hips and girly legs, it is heard to believe that he is in fact a man. I mean, come on. He's wearing a skirt! Rumor also has it that he wears a red thon—"

"_MAGGOTS, THE LOT OF YOU!_"

The door to the conference room was kicked open, the broken sliding door throwing sparks up into the air. In the doorway stood someone with a furious aura, his eyes seeming to glow a fiery red. Everyone stood in surprise and those closest to the door quickly backed away to avoid getting caught in the katana's path.

"_What is going on here?_" the man snarled, his hair spiky two-toned hair standing on end. He brandished his sword dangerously close to the fleeing recruits, the blade gleaming, and pointed it at Cliff.

The entire time, he had just stood there, a smirk on his face that hid his own surprise. He gave a shrug, his arms behind his back. Discreetly, he allowed the remote to slip out of his hands, a foot kicking it far away from him.

"Just…a lesson. No need to get antsy, Albel," he replied smoothly.

The fiery Aireglyphian glared, his eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't have a reason to be if my _picture_ weren't on that…that thing!" His gaze swung around the room, every person quivering in fright when his eyes fell on them.

But Cliff just chuckled and walked towards the blade. Albel's attention immediately switched to him, his hand almost shaking in fury.

"Let's put that away, shall we?" Cliff said, pushing aside the katana. "I'm sure Maria would like her crewmembers to stay in one piece."

Albel glared at him, his sword held steady, he pressing the broad side of it against his hand. After a few seconds, he stood down and reluctantly sheathed his sword. Cliff's lips curled into a small smirk.

"See, was that so hard?"

Glare.

"So, now that you're here, can you clear up a small mystery for us?"

An even stronger glare. Only Albel was capable of them, but that didn't stop Cliff from proceeding.

"Uh…Well, some of us here wanted to know if you really do wear a red thon—"

A metal-clawed hand gripped around his throat, Albel's eyes flashing dangerously. Shoving hard, Albel swiveled him around and promptly marched him out of the room, down the hall, and into a nearby storage room. Cliff could just see people peeking at him from beyond Albel's red-faced head. He'd never seen the normally pale-faced stoic man lose his composure, but when it came to personal fashion, the Aireglyphian must have been offended.

His back met the metal wall when Albel shoved him backwards. He squeezed his armored hand in front of him threateningly, resting it atop the hilt of his katana as a warning.

"What concern of yours is it what I wear!" he growled dangerously.

"It was just an innocent ques—"

"NONE! What the hell kind of lesson was that anyway? Did you show a naked picture of Nel and her black panties to your sick little crew too?"

"Oh, so she wears black panties, huh? And how would you know that, Mister Aquaria-Is-My-Enemy?" Cliff asked mischievously.

He conveniently ignored the question and continued to chew out Cliff. "Do you find it amusing to call what I wear into question? Are they that different that they warrant ridicule by you and the other pathetic worms? My clothes give me optimum mobility when I'm in a fight. I don't see how your leather pants can help you much."

Shrugging, he replied, "I still get the job done. Why a skirt, though?"

"It's not a skirt!" he snarled in a tone suggesting he had to answer that question more than once before. "Your—your muscle bound pitiful brain couldn't possibly understand!" He started to walk away, both fists clenching and unclenching in his rage when he stopped and whirled around. "If I catch you making fun of me, my body, and my _clothing_ one more time, I know where you sleep and I won't hesitate in interrupting your dreams."

That said, the angry Aireglyphian left, the doors sliding shut with a bang behind him. However, Cliff started to laugh and laugh hard. He wondered if Albel felt that draft when he stopped over the vent.

The mystery of the red thong was solved, and he couldn't help imagining how uncomfortable one of those must be in the heat of battle.

_To each his own_, he thought and chuckled, heading back to the conference room.


End file.
